Her Flowers
by The-Goldstein-Sharpshooter
Summary: When Aerith died, someone had to take care of her flowers. Oneshot.


_I don't own anything in this fanfiction, only the plotline. Everything else belongs to Square enix. This is a friendship fic only! Try and guess who's the person before you reach the end! _

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**Her Flowers**

He worked hard, his gloved fingers nimbly weeding out all the weeds in the garden, her garden, the one she had loved and had preserved throughout all the years. He owed it to her, after all, after what he had done for him all those years ago, and yet with all his skills he couldn't save her at all, he still failed, failed as a friend, failed as a soldier, failed as...

He chucked the weeds into a plastic bag, and picked up the watering can. As he gave the flowers their water, he couldn't help but think of the first time he had met her. It was here, after all, when he first met Aerith. He had gotten into a bad fight, and he'd somehow wound up in this church in Sector 5, surrounded with a pleasant fragrance all around him, and a sweet voice asking him if he was alright as he regained his consciousness.

She had helped him find his way back, even though it was far, and the road had been dangerous. Yet she had expected nothing in return. It was rare, he had thought back then, to find someone so altruistic.

The watering can empty, he started to pack up. When Aerith had died, he felt like a part of him had died as well. She had such a warm smile, a gentle voice, but she was also no pushover herself. Growing up in the slums had taught her a thing or two, and she was no naive flower girl. He couldn't help but chuckle as he remembered their conversations. How she would ask questions with that curious tone in her voice, and the way she would giggle and laugh when he stuttered his hesitant replies. It wasn't that he couldn't argue back, just that he had always found it difficult to deal with women. He himself was often tongue-tied around her presence, and he really didn't know what to say when she questioned him on personal issues. He never liked opening himself up to others, even to those who he worked with, what more to this young flower girl who he had just met for a week or two?

Removing the gardening gloves, he put everything back carefully into the bag he had brought along. It was a miracle those flowers survived for so long down here. Maybe they could live because they were taken cared of by an Ancient?

He was no Ancient, but he just couldn't bring himself to let them just die. The moment he had time, he had rushed here with his bag full of gardening tools. They were all he had left of Aerith, the one girl and only person who knew his deepest darkest secret.

These flowers had seen him confide in her his secret, the one thing he could never let anyone else know. It was weakness, and weakness was not something that could be tolerated, not for someone of his calibre. He didn't know why he told her, he just felt like telling someone something that had been bottled up for so long.

She had been surprised, and upset. He never knew why people got upset by things like that. He had had to live with it for years, pretending that he was strong, that he didn't need help. But on that day, he had been feeling insecure after losing a battle. He had never fought against someone that strong before, it had shocked him how he had been defeated so easily. He needed to let everything off his chest, the humiliation and embarrassment. But he couldn't bring himself to open up to his team mates, who were also feeling the sting of defeat. They didn't need anymore discouragement.

So he had taken a trip down to Sector 5, and found her, told her he needed to speak with her.

He could still remember those soft arms wrapping around his body. It was his turn to be surprised. He'd never been embraced like that, not for a long time. The last time had been with his mother...

Aerith had simply hugged him, and told him that she could never understand his position, but nevertheless, she would be there for him if he wanted her to. She would listen to his problems, and she wouldn't care whether he was weak or not, she didn't think he was weak, no, she thought he was strong for trying to be strong, to protect his friends, and that she thought he was a kind and gentle person who cared very much for his friends.

He had been very touched, more touched than he could ever convey. That she would care for him to that extent, like they were...friends...

That was the last time he ever spoke to Aerith.

Slowly, he got up and made his way out of the church. He knew the two kids would be outside, hiding, whispering to each other. He could hear their tiny voices, hushed and timid. He smiled to himself, and walked towards their hiding spot. The girl squeaked, and he could hear the boy quickly put his hand over his mouth. "Sis, you gotta be quiet!" he hissed to her. "Or else he'll see-"

"Hey."

The two kids froze.

"Take care of the flowers. While I'm gone."

He didn't need to see the expressions on their faces as he turned away and walked home. He knew they were confused, but they would take care of the flowers, her flowers, if not for him, then for her. They weren't the only ones who had lost their Big Sister.

He walked through the market, his stride confident. He could feel the stares and hear the murmuring amongst the people as they gaped. He didn't need to look at them to know what they were thinking, how much they hated and feared him. He didn't care.

As he stepped out of the market place, his PHS rang. Picking up, he smiled as his partner's cheery voice called his name through the device. Answering the call, he walked briskly towards the train station.

A few minutes later, he stepped into the apartment, and unlocked his bedroom. He deposited the bag, relocked the room, and stepped back out, pulling his battle gloves back on. His face was expressionless, as he walked towards the briefing room. He could hear Reno's voice, whining about Heidegger, and Elena's indignant reply about respect for seniors. Opening the door, he heard them call his name...

"Yo, Rude!"

"Sir, you're nearly late! Any second later and Heidegger would've lost it and as Turks we might be held accountable for any losses and..."

Elena's voice droned on and on, while Reno gave his partner a pat on the back. Rude smiled. One day he'd tell them, about his skeletons in the closet. About his weakness, and about his relationship with a certain Ancient. But until then, the flowers will hold them for him. Her flowers.

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_I repeat, this is ONLY friendship. This is only a fanmade plot, but there's a reference to him losing to Sears from Before Crisis in this fic, in case anyone's wondering who defeated him so badly till he needs to tell someone other than Reno. I've always like Rude, way more than Reno. But in general, I love the Turks, and I really felt like writing this fic, which has been an idea in my head for 2 years! The Turks need more storyline development, and if SquareEnix isn't going to give it to me, than I'll make my own! Hope you enjoyed this oneshot! Please give me constructive criticism, as I'm not very good in writing stories._


End file.
